


Tutelage

by brokibrodinson



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Rogue, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokibrodinson/pseuds/brokibrodinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haytham meets Shay and takes him under his wing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tutelage

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the most recent story trailer!
> 
> I'm posting this at about 3am my time, so if there any mistakes I apologise, I really just wanted to get this posted. Let me know if there are any glaring errors, I'll fix them when I wake up tomorrow.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_"I expect you will not disappoint."_

_"I don't plan to, sir."_

 

The first time Haytham met Shay, he was intrigued, hoping he'd at last found a capable fighter and agent to serve the Cross. Wishing to gauge the man's usefulness for himself, he invited him to his home in order to interview him.

"So," Haytham began, now comfortably seated in his favourite armchair, looking the younger man over with sharp eyes. "Tell me about yourself."

"Well," Shay replied from where he was sitting opposite. "My parents and I travelled here from Ireland when I was naught but a lad-"

"Not that," Haytham interrupted him calmly. "I mean your skills. What did you learn in the Brotherhood?"

"Oh." Shay looked slightly abashed but recovered quickly. "A bit of everything I suppose. Stealth, free running, combat..."

Haytham made a mental note to test his skill in these areas himself later. "Good," he said. "The Order needs more men like you." 

The praise made Shay's cheeks flush slightly, Haytham was amused to see.

"I take little pleasure in my skills," the Irishman admitted. "But I will do what is necessary."

"That's all I ask," Haytham replied, pleased, already feeling himself warm to the man. "If I may," he began slowly, a new thought occurring to him. "Do you possess the second sight - what the Assassins call Eagle Vision?"

Shay looked hunted for a moment before he relaxed. "Yes, sir."

"Do you really?" Haytham asked, surprised. It would be extremely beneficial to have another Templar who possessed the ability. As far as he knew, Haytham himself was the only other Templar in the colonies to do so, while the Assassins seemed to have several. 

Shay nodded. "Actually my... my Mentor said it manifested a bit differently than it does for most with the ability."

"Indeed?" Shay had looked uncomfortable speaking about his Mentor, Haytham had noted. Clearly the guilt of changing sides still lingered, weighing heavily on the man's shoulders. Haytham hoped it wouldn't compromise him. "Do you not see the colours?"

"Oh yes, I do," Shay explained. "But there's more to it. If I have a target I feel a strong pull to where they are, almost like an arrow pointing me in their direction. And then there's the whispers..."

"Go on," said Haytham, intrigued.

"I... I can tell when an enemy is approaching me by the sound of faint whispering. At first I thought I was hearing things, going mad, but they always grow louder the nearer my assailant gets."

"How very interesting," Haytham commented. "I've never heard of it being like that. Mine certainly isn't," he added, a little ruefully.

"Yours, sir?" Shay prompted.

"I have it too," Haytham explained, eyes flashing gold for a moment as he activated it. "Inherited from my father." Shay was a calm blue, he was pleased to see. He let the colours fade, and saw that Shay looked quite surprised.

"I thought only Assassins had it," he admitted.

Haytham chuckled. "They'd certainly like to think so. Regardless the fact that they don't know about mine yet is heartening, though I suspect it won't take long for them to figure it out.

"Now," he began, back to business. "Forgive my bluntness, but you must take off your clothes."

"Forgive me, sir, but... why?" Shay looked nonplussed.

Haytham smiled wryly. "Two reasons. One; I wanted to test your willingness to obey me without question. We'll work on that," he added as Shay began to look a bit nervous. "And two; I need to physically examine you. It's all standard procedure," he reassured him. "Nothing untoward."

Shay turned pink again, but did rise to his feet.

"This... isn't a joke is it?" he asked uncertainly, removing his weapons and beginning to unbutton his coat.

Haytham smirked. "If there's one thing you'll learn about the Order," he said, "it's that very few of us have a sense of humour. Carry on."

Once Shay was all but nude (“You may leave your drawers on,” Haytham had said. “I’m not trying to embarrass you”) Haytham at last rose to his feet and began to circle him, examining his now mostly-healed injuries.

“Usually this duty falls to Mr Benjamin Church,” Haytham explained, “seeing as he’s our resident physician. However,” here his voice took on a hard edge, “seeing as dear Mr Church has yet to return from Boston... No matter,” he interrupted himself. “The assessment is fairly rudimentary. You don’t have any injuries of a crippling nature do you?”

“No,” Shay answered, slightly amused by Haytham’s displeasure with his colleague. “I’m all healed up.”

“Nothing that might stop you from carrying out a mission successfully?” Haytham prompted. “Well I’ll test your abilities later in any case, but as long as you haven’t any broken limbs or anything...”

Shay shook his head.

“Excellent,” Haytham was now looking his physique over with a critical eye. “Well you seem to be in prime physical condition, Mr Cormac.”

“Thank you, sir,” Shay said, rather self-consciously. “Do you think I might put my clothes back on now?”

“I suppose you might,” Haytham replied, amused as he sat down again.     

If Shay didn’t know better, he’d have sworn there was a subtle flash of regret in Haytham’s gaze as the last vestiges of his bare flesh were covered by his clothes.

“Sir...” he began hesitantly.

“Yes, Shay?”

Shay looked away. “Never mind.” What had he been planning to say? ‘Excuse me, sir, but were you enjoying the view?’ Don’t be stupid, he berated himself.

“Very well,” Haytham said, his smile taking on a knowing edge. “Come back later this afternoon. We’ll put those skills of yours to the test.”

Shay swallowed nervously and nodded.

 

Shay couldn’t help feeling rather apprehensive as he returned to Haytham’s property.

Haytham wasn’t much older than him, true, but one had to be significantly skilled indeed to have earned the title of Grand Master at such a young age.

The new Templar hoped he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

The thought irritated him. Why should he let Haytham intimidate him so? He had learned his skills as an Assassin as well as anyone, and had every right to be proud of his abilities.

If not the results they garnered...

Shaking off his dark thoughts, Shay was met at the gate by the Grand Master himself.

“Shall we?”

The tests Haytham set for him were quite simple, designed to assess his skill in such things as free running across rooftops and speed and accuracy in firing a pistol.

Apparently having concluded that he was competent in these areas, Haytham handed him a dull practice sword with a challenging glint in his eyes.

Shay took it and dropped into a ready position. He didn’t expect to win against the senior Templar, but he certainly meant to try.

Also standing in a perfect guard position, Haytham remained motionless, obviously waiting for Shay to make the first move.

Shay obliged, launching into a series of slashes to test the waters.

Haytham parried each attack with casual ease before switching to the offensive himself, driving Shay back with swift and fluid strikes that seemed almost effortless for the Grand Master.

It was clear Haytham was only testing him however, as Shay was able to keep up easily.

A particularly fierce defensive swing from Shay collided heavily with Haytham’s sword, the shock from impact reverberating through the steel.

Haytham disengaged rapidly and thrust forward, aiming for Shay’s stomach. Shay danced backwards just in time, only to be driven further into a retreat as Haytham simply continued to follow through, using his forward momentum to deliver an onslaught of cuts and slashes.

Shay felt his back collide with the wall behind him, and though he did his best to step to the side and away from it, Haytham had followed him too quickly and was soon using his proximity to flatten him further against the solid surface.

The younger Templar made a feeble attempt to riposte, but with an elegant twist, Haytham had disarmed him of the practice blade and brought up his own to rest at Shay’s throat.

He smiled slowly. “Do you yield?” he asked, low and dark.

Shay swallowed nervously at the other man’s proximity. He nodded.

The sound of steel clattering to the ground echoed throughout the grounds as Haytham let go of his practice sword and leaned in closer until Shay could feel his breath tickling his skin.

“What are you-” Shay began confusedly, only to be interrupted by Haytham’s lips ghosting over his own in the lightest impression of a kiss.

Inhaling sharply, the Irishman made to pull away, shocked and confused by other man’s behaviour, and the sudden intense undercurrents that seemed to be thrumming in the very air between the two Templars.

Haytham held him still with a firm grip on his wrist, moving even closer to trap him against the wall with the weight of his body. “Shh,” he purred, raising his free hand to brush a loose strand of hair out of Shay’s eyes. “No one need know.”

“I don’t understand,” Shay admitted helplessly. “I- you- we are both men!”

“And why should that matter?” Haytham replied reasonably. “I won’t deny that I found you attractive from the moment I laid eyes on you...”

“But-” Shay protested weakly, breaking off with a gasp as Haytham chose that moment to push aside the younger man’s high collar so he could mouth along his sharp jawline.

“If you truly wish me to stop, I will,” Haytham murmured, giving Shay a sharp nip against the sensitive skin of his throat and making him whimper. Shay felt him smirk against his skin. “Only say the word.”

All further protests died on Shay’s tongue as Haytham decided to tilt the scales in his favour by grinding ever so teasingly against his groin, chuckling as Shay’s breath stuttered in his throat.

Unable to resist, Shay raised the hand that wasn’t still trapped in Haytham’s firm grip to clutch at the older man’s overcoat, pulling him close to kiss him firmly.

Haytham went willingly, a muffled groan escaping him as the kiss deepened, their tongues twining lazily together.

From then on everything became a heated blur, and before Shay knew it, both men’s belts were unbuckled so Haytham could take both their erections in his experienced hand and stroke them to completion with a palm slick with spit.

They came moments apart from each other, Shay sagging against the older man’s lean frame as he panted for breath.

Haytham allowed it, even wrapping an arm around him to help prop him up (if Shay leaned into the embrace a little more than was necessary, Haytham didn’t comment on it).

Once Shay had recovered his composure again, he straightened with a murmured apology, feeling uncertain all of a sudden. How should he act around the Grand Master now?

“Don’t think so hard,” Haytham said dryly. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Shay glowered at him, tucking himself away and buckling his belt again. He supposed he would just follow Haytham’s lead and carry on as usual.

Haytham smirked at him, taking a step back and looking out at his property, leaving Shay to escape from the wall at last and straighten his coat.

 “Come back tomorrow,” Haytham said eventually. “We’ll see if we can’t drum up some sort of mission for you.”

“Very good, sir,” Shay said formally, startled by this sudden return to professionalism.

“Hmm,” the gleam in Haytham’s eyes was the only warning Shay had before he was crushed against the senior Templar once more, a thoroughly heated kiss pressed against his lips.

Pulling away again, Haytham regarded Shay with obvious satisfaction. “Run along now,” he drawled, a sly smile pulling at his mouth.

Despite the increasing temptation to linger, Shay obeyed, unwilling to risk Haytham’s ire.

He returned the next day, as promised, and thus began his Templar training under the Grand Master.

It was the beginning of a very powerful and prosperous relationship.

**Author's Note:**

> ha ha "under" him, get it
> 
> speaking of sex, sorry I didn't go into much detail in this one, I honestly just didn't have the energy to write it all out so I kept it really simple. I hope it's not too disappointing. 
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading, I'll go back to conhayth for a bit now. Just needed to get this out of my system after the newest trailer.


End file.
